


It'll Be Just Like You Were Never Gone

by pietromavximoff



Category: Captain America, Marvel, Stucky - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:17:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietromavximoff/pseuds/pietromavximoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky leaves and Steve doesn't know what to do without him (aka all the angst - part 2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It'll Be Just Like You Were Never Gone

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of If You Ever Come Back, so if you haven't, go and read that one first! :)
> 
> Also, I got the title and general idea from The Script's song If You Ever Come Back which gives me major stucky feels so go and listen if you haven't heard it!

It was one of the worse days. The moment Steve stirred awake he felt the familiar ache in his chest, his arm brushing over Bucky’s cold side of the bed. It had been just over two months that Steve had been alone, stuck in their apartment, surrounded by everything that told him Bucky used to be there. Surrounded by things that might have tricked him into thinking Bucky was about to walk through the front door any second, if he hadn’t been there the night he’d left. Steve hadn’t touched Bucky’s favourite cereal in the cupboard or washed his dirty laundry. Sam told him every now and then that it wasn’t healthy, to stop functioning when you lost something. But what Steve had lost wasn’t just something that could be replaced or forgotten. Bucky was a part of him, had been for as long as he could remember.

He forced himself out of bed and into the shower. He hadn’t felt water over his body in days and it was more welcome than he thought it would be. Sinking to the floor, his knees drawn up, Steve rest his head against the tiled wall until the water started to run cold. He remembered a time when he had come home and Bucky was in the shower, his voice carrying to the kitchen as he sung. Smirking, Steve had yelled out that he could hear him, but instead of hearing Bucky’s embarrassed laugh, he heard the water stop and a few seconds later, Bucky had appeared at the door of the kitchen, playfully grinning as he saw Steve flush slightly at the unexpected sight of his wet body. After that, they’d showered together more often.

The memory drew blood, Steve’s heart beating rapidly as he stood up and closed the water. The apartment was silent, another thing he was still trying to get used to. Bucky’s presence filled up the place, not necessarily with his voice, not necessarily with the way he would move, the floorboards creaking in weak places or the mattress springing lightly under his weight, but in the way Steve would always be able to feel him there, to know he was with him. His absence was never so obvious than in the mornings, where Steve would usually wake to feel Bucky’s soft breath against his neck or hear him humming as he made them breakfast.

Stepping out of the shower, it took all of Steve’s energy to get dressed, eyeing his pile of dirty clothes with a sinking feeling that unless Nat and Sam came over to clean up and wash his clothes like they always did when they realized he was wearing the same ones as the week before, he’d have to delve into Bucky’s wardrobe soon. Steve shook the thought, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take wearing Bucky’s clothes around the apartment like Bucky was doing the same with his, like they used to before, without even realizing. Steve felt a twist in his stomach at the unwanted memory that had surfaced from that thought; Tony calling an urgent Avengers meeting, Steve and Bucky rushing to leave the apartment, the team laughing when they saw Bucky wearing one of Steve’s tops inside out, a reddish blush chasing itself across their faces. It was a white t-shirt with a blue stripe on the bottom of each sleeve that Steve hadn’t seen in a while, but didn’t bother looking for anyway. It had gone like Bucky.

He checked his phone, walking into the kitchen and collapsing on the chair nearest him. Checking his phone had become a compulsion over the last two months, hoping with everything that Bucky had called or left a message. He hadn’t called Bucky, but he didn’t need to. Steve knew Bucky, he knew he needed time. But Steve was dying everyday not knowing when Bucky would be back, or even if he would be. If he knew for sure that he wasn’t coming back, maybe he could try uselessly to move on. Maybe he’d call the nurse that Nat used to always bug him about and he’d have a futile relationship with her for a while. He hated those thoughts too, because he didn’t really want that. But this was Bucky, and there was no way of moving on from him. So maybe he’d tell Thor to bring him that alcohol that somehow seemed to work on him, and maybe he’d find a memory of Bucky that he’d tried to discard at the bottom of the bottle. Steve didn’t have to question whether Bucky loved him back; he knew he did. It was always there, in the way he’d squeeze his hand a little tighter right before they broke away on missions, or in the way he’d call him, his name rolling off his lips so effortlessly, like they’d been made to only say his name, over and over again, in different places, in different times.

And Steve didn’t know how much it could hurt, loving someone so much. He had loved Peggy, all those years ago, his heart started beating a little differently when he realized it. And it had broken his heart to wake up too late. It killed him to see her in that hospital bed, he felt the weight crushing his ribs one at a time as she recognized him. And when her eyes widened with tears and she said his name finally, he had felt his heart stop, beating again a second later, but differently, and it had beat differently from then on. Once Bucky had come back, really come back, his heartbeat had changed again, ever so slightly, but he knew it had.

He couldn’t pick the moment he had fallen in love with Bucky. He supposed he had loved him all his life, in different ways, in different times, always.

Steve looked up sharply, hearing the chime of keys at the front door. He felt a wave of exhaustion. Sam and Nat both had made keys for the apartment so they could get in even when he didn’t open the door for them. He didn’t bother getting up, just stayed in the chair, tossing his phone on the table and running a hand over his face, rubbing his tired eyes. He heard the door close lightly and a few seconds later, when he didn’t hear footsteps, he sighed. Sam and Nat had both been known to wait at the door so he would be forced to get up and see them. Pushing himself up took too much effort, his muscles aching with tiredness. He walked around the corner of the kitchen to the front door, stopping abruptly in shock. Bucky’s was standing in front of the door, his hands by his side trembling slightly, his blue eyes wide, searching Steve’s, telling him all the things he couldn’t say aloud.

‘You came back.’ Steve’s voice was uneven. His fingers were shaking, too, and his heart was beating so hard he felt his chest moving. The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched slightly upwards and right before he broke into a smile, that heartbreaking smile that always made Steve forget everything bad in the world, Steve saw the fear in his eyes, and he felt his stomach knot. Bucky was always afraid after they fought, like he had done something so bad and Steve wouldn’t want him back. Although he could barely think about anything besides the fact that Bucky was back, right there in front of him, he realized that Bucky was wearing a white shirt, with stripes on each sleeve. In a detached kind of way, Steve remembered that Bucky had been wearing his top the night he had left, the one he couldn’t find after. It hadn’t gone like Bucky. It had gone with Bucky.

Instead of talking, Steve moved closer, taking Bucky’s shaking hands in his own and tilting his head, pushing his lips against Bucky’s. When he felt the pressure of Bucky kissing him back with the same urgency, he let out a breath and then took one in, and it felt like it was the first time he had been able to breathe since Bucky had gone. And as he leaned in closer, he felt Bucky’s heart pounding against his, and he let out a soft laugh, realizing his was hammering just as much.

Once you love someone, the beating of your heart changes. Not enough for others to see, but enough for you to feel. And once you lose someone, the beating of your heart changes again. And you feel a little different every time you love someone and every time you lose someone and you wonder if you were the same person you were before. You wonder if you will ever be the same person you were before. But what you don’t know is, one day your heart will be beating a different beat, just like all those times before, and someone will come along and the strange rhythm of their heartbeat will match yours. And that’s when you know they’ll be the last one you love and the last one you lose.


End file.
